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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635709">Serving Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric'>ruric</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Community: fic_promptly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2011-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2011-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:34:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635709</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for juliet316's 2010 prompt: BtVS, Faith, serving time</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>fic_promptly Fills 2010</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Serving Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for juliet316's 2010 prompt: BtVS, Faith, serving time</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the end it's not so bad.  The first week someone makes a move and she hits back, puts them down brutally hard and sees the disappointment in his eyes when he visits.  But it was worth it because her point has been made.  It may have cost her a week in solitary but they leave her alone now. Reputation made and her place in the hierarchy established.</p>
<p>The grey concrete corridors and the clang of metal doors opening and closing are just minor irritants.  The oh-so-flattering and scratchy orange jumpsuits are not so much of an imposition, she's worn worse before now.  She doesn't miss the sun as much as she thought she would – which is hardly surprising, as in the last few months she'd slept during daylight hours, most of her activity taking place after dark under neon lights.</p>
<p>She doesn't miss that either.  Doesn't miss the smell of the city – alcohol and fast-food and car fumes – doesn't miss the sense of desperation as the night is drawing to close from predators and prey alike.</p>
<p>The food sucks; it's a lifeless as the corridors of the building, sucked free of colours and taste.</p>
<p>Something about the monotony appeals to her.  For the first time in a long time her life has some kind of order even if it doesn't have purpose...yet. There's a time to get up, times to sit down and eat and lists of tasks to achieve.</p>
<p>Angel visits, he talks to her, brings her books. </p>
<p>Slowly as the weeks pass the fog in her head clears and for the first time in years she's not thinking about what she has to do to survive the next day.  Serving time becomes just one more thing she has to do, perhaps a first small step on the path to atonement.</p>
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